The Game
by Darkfire75
Summary: England/France. It was like a game for them. They’d start the evening exchanging pleasantries and then would start in on arguing with one another until they were both so sexually frustrated that they needed release.


_**Author's note:**__ I wrote this because I had a very intense need for this pairing. Also, I rarely write these two and I wanted to try it. England tops...because he's not always the __**uk**__e XP_

***

It was like a game for them. They'd start the evening exchanging pleasantries and then would start in on arguing with one another until they were both so sexually frustrated that they needed release. France enjoyed making England scream for him. Just hearing the swears on the other nation's lips was enough to make him hard.

Tonight was like every other night. The two had argued earlier and were now laid out on the floor, England above him sucking him off while he sucked him off. His tongue swirled around the tip, earning him a strangled gasp from the man above. "B-Bloody wanker," England cursed, arching his back and thrusting his hips down so that France engulfed him completely.

"Ah, concentrate on your end, mon cher," France mumbled. "Unless you wish to lose zis bet?"

"I hate you," the other growled, sucking on the head of the Frenchman's erection.

France moaned pleasantly. "I love you too, Arthur~"

He knew all the right tricks to make England cum first. They had this bet that whoever came first was the one who got it up the ass. For all of France's defeats on the battlefield, in the bedroom, he was a conqueror. England still hadn't made him cum before himself and it was frustrating. He continued to lick and suck, but the responses he got were useless. Whilst Sir Suckface the Horny was humming a song to himself and using his tongue in wondrous ways on his cock.

He whimpered, knowing that if he didn't think of something soon, he'd lose again. He couldn't stand losing to him. England thought a moment, trying to ignore France as he licked up and down the shaft. An idea popped into his head immediately and he lowered his mouth and began to lick very lightly on the tip. France gasped a little and arched his back. England smirked and let his tongue press against the tiny slit delicately.

"O-Oooh…" France moaned softly, spreading his legs a little. "Mon cher…"

His mouth had left the other's erection now and his hands were trying to find something to grasp. England didn't stop there either. His hand moved down so that it could massage the balls. France whispered something in French before arching his back gloriously into the mouth and feather-light touches of the Englishman.

"Arthuuuur…"

"Yes, Francis?"

A curse in French. England grinned and continued what he was doing. For once he was controlling everything. For once he was winning against this damn bastard and he was going to savor it for as long as he could. He shifted his own hips down and said, "Oi, it's not all about you, you know."

France looked like he really didn't care anymore; too engrossed in the pleasure he was receiving. But his mouth closed over the other's head anyway and he began to suck. England, concentrating on nibbling the other, began to move his hips, effectively fucking France's warm mouth. He teasingly stuck the tip of his index finger into France's entrance.

He gave a cry and arched up, releasing England's cock. "Arthur, just finish it!" he finally snapped, exhausted from being denied.

"You're forfeiting?" England asked, amused. His finger pushed in deeper and France winced.

"Yes! Yes I am forfeiting!"

"Hmm…" When he moved the digit around, the other blonde groaned and thrust upward. He leaned down to give one final lick to the head and that's what sent France over the edge. He screamed and moaned as he came, body spasming beneath England.

"You…win zis time," he mumbled.

"I'm not finished yet," England snarled. He got off and positioned himself at France's entrance. "I'm going to fuck you, Francis."

"Mon cher, I am spent. You cannot possibly do anymore for me…"

"Who said—" He thrust himself inside and France cried out "—that I was doing this for _you_?" He grasped the Frenchman's hips as he started a steady rhythm. "I still haven't cum yet, in case you've forgotten."

France wiggled under him before reaching up and wrapping his arms around the Englishman's neck. "Oooh…Arthur…right there…yessss…." Hearing his name whispered so sensually by this man made him turn red, even as he sped up. Their hips rocked together as one, and as the wanton and dirty talk from France increased, the more he felt his orgasm coming.

"F-Francis…" he groaned out, finally tensing up and releasing inside of his lover. France joined him shortly after, riding out his climax as long as he could. England pulled out and collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily.

"Mon cher, congratulations."

"Oh shut up."

"No, I really mean it."

England blushed and turned his head away. "…how was I?"

France smirked. "You have made me cum twice tonight. I zhink zat is all I need to say, non?"


End file.
